


Bruised my knees getting down to pray

by Mykingdomforacupoftea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blasphemy, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Cheating, Choking, Church Sex, Demon!Dean, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kinky sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Priest!Castiel, Rough Sex, Self-Loathing, Slapping, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Relationships, its tiny but i prefer to mention it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mykingdomforacupoftea/pseuds/Mykingdomforacupoftea
Summary: Demon Dean crosses the path of Father Novak. There's no moral compass  to stop him to take everything he wants from the man.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So someone was eager for some priest AU Destiel so I tried. I'm writing honest porn now, I can't believe it !  
> My priest kink is terrible and I can't help myself.  
> Did you know that Misha Collins played in a serie called Divine? He wears the collar and it's perfect, I'm dying here !  
> Title is from "Devil don't go" by Elle King. I love her voice.  
> Writing is addictive, I have another Lucifer/Sam in mind.  
> I also already have a priest!sam /lucifer fic if you're interested !

“Claire, will you say grace?”

The young girl sighed, withdrawing her hand from the plate to put it in her father’s. She recited the well-known lines, impatient to eat. Castiel smiled. She was growing up and would go to middle school soon. She was less interested in religion now, and she was a bit tired to always be seen as the pastor’s daughter. He could understand. He had such a period himself when he was her age. His father, James Novak, had been a stern and strict man, and he had taken him some time to join the church path. Before he understood what it really was, he had only seen a dusty and boring job, that his father wanted to force him to take over. Now he was glad to be where he was.

His wife cut the meat. He had met Amelia when he was young, barely into seminary. She had moved in town recently and began attending his church. He hadn’t noticed her at first, but she kept talking to him and they got along quickly. He was shy with girls – with everyone actually - but she had known how to put him at ease. They had married a year later. His father had been delighted by his daughter-in-law, so devout, so kind and so invested in family matters. He had died not long after Claire’s birth. Castiel’s mother having died when he was very young, he had felt lost, even if his father wasn’t the most affectionate parent. Thankfully, Amelia’s family had welcomed him warmly.

When lunch was over, he got back to his church, greeting the regulars. He had to prepare for the sermon, which he had decided to be about faith. Many people lacked faith and he had been regularly asked how to overcome this. He had carefully selected some inspirational verses, that he had found useful in time of doubt. He was carrying his Bible and papers when a man knocked into him.

“Oh I’m sorry ! ”

“Distracted, Father ? ”

Castiel's laugh died in his throat. There was something intimidating in the man before him. He was slightly taller than him, with green eyes and dark blond hair. He was dressed casually, with jeans and a red shirt opened on a black T-shirt. He had a cocky smile, with eyes that bored into him.

“Huh... I... Are you new in town ? ”

“Just passing by. But I might stay if I find something interesting. ”

He said it as if Castiel was supposed to get some hidden meaning. He answered politely.

“I hope so. It’s a lovely town.”

With a small motion of the head, he took his leave. He felt the man's gaze following him and it made him uneasy. He had never seen him before and he wondered who he was.

The man was listening to the sermon. His eyes were fixed on him, still with his crooked smile and Castiel had difficulty to concentrate. He stumbled on a few words, and even lost himself in the middle of his speech. It had never happened to him. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the man seemed greatly amused by his struggle. When it was over, he was thanked by some people, but when he tried to spot he man, he had disappeared. Weird.

He went to the garden, behind the church. It was a vast ground, with a lot of trees, plants and flowers. There was also a spot for vegetables, cultivated by some people who lived nearby. He had asked to put beehives a few years ago and he tended to them when he had the time. He had always loved bees and was a bit obsessed with them when he was younger. There was an old photo of me him somewhere that showed him in a bee costume that his mother had sewn. He had been very embarrassed when Amelia had seen it, but she had loved it and gushed about how cute he was.

He walked among the plants, breathing in the sweet scent of flowers. It was a lovely day.

“Have to say, your town could use some strip clubs, but hey, can’t have everything, right?”

The man was picking at flowers, plucking their petals in a nonchalant way. Castiel didn’t know what to answer to such a comment. The man came closer, throwing he flower on the ground.

“I’m Dean by the way.”

“Castiel.”

“That’s unusual.”

“It’s an angel’s name. My father insisted.”

“Right. You father was a priest too, angel ?”

“It’s Castiel.”

“Nah, I like angel better. Or I can call you pretty, if you prefer. Suits you too”

He was speechless. And horribly embarrassed. What were this man’s intentions ? He tried to compose himself.

“Actually, most people call me Father, if it’s easier.”

“Father…”

The way he wrapped his mouth around the word was indecent.

“Kinky. I like it.”

He had a small laugh, that achieved to make Castiel uncomfortable. He wanted to leave, but he didn’t want to seem rude, even if the man was. He was radiating danger and Castiel found himself frozen before such a display.

“Are you married, Father ?” Dean asked, insisting on the last word.

“I am. We have a daughter.”

He instinctively thumbed at his wedding ring. He had the feeling that the man already knew the answer but was asking for some unknown reason.

“I see.”

He hadn’t noticed he was breathing faster. The man’s gaze was heavy on him and he didn’t know what to make of it. He was used to be looked at, by many people, and yet this one man disturbed him. If he let himself speak freely, he would have said that there was something dark in him.

“I’ll leave you to that. But I’ll see you soon, Father.”

He didn’t tell Amelia about that encounter. Something was not sitting right and it was bugging him. And even through his prayers and through his dreams, he couldn’t shake the man’s face from his mind.

He was going through the church’s library, looking for a book he had misplaced. He was getting frustrated. He could have sworn he saw it two weeks ago, but he couldn’t put his hands on it. He rubbed his chin, trying to remember. 

“Looking for this?”

He jumped, knocking into the table next to him. It was Dean.

“How did you get in ? “

“You let the door open.”

Castiel was sure he hadn’t, but how could he have come in otherwise? He was holding the book he wanted, with a dark cover and golden letters on the edges.

“Thank you.”

He stretched his hand to take the book, but the man held it out of his reach.

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast. What do I get in return?”

“I’m not gonna pay you for a book that belongs here.”

“I don’t want money.”

“Then what?”

Dean looked at him, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe that Castiel didn’t guess what he wanted.

“I want a kiss.”

“A what?”

“Aww angel, you’re married, I’m sure you know what a kiss is.”

“Of course I know! But…”

There was so much wrong in that. He should have protested at being called angel to begin with. That man had nerves.

“I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“Then you’re not getting that book. I thought it was important.”

“You can’t ask me that !”

Dean smirked, book still high in his hand. Castiel was eyeing it, shocked by the audacity the man showed.

“Give me that book, Dean, please.”

“Begging already ? I like the sound of it. But I’m afraid it’s not gonna be enough.”

They were facing each other, unmoving. Surely the man would realize how weird his asking was and would give up. But as quiet seconds passed, he was more and more aware of Dean’s confidence. He wouldn’t give up. How could he ask something like that and why?

“Come on, angel, just a kiss. I promise you’re gonna like it.”

He huffed at the assumption.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, but stop that.”

He nearly let a small shout escape when Dean took two steps in his direction and crowded him. He had forgotten the book. Dean’s face was merely inches apart and he turned his face away. He felt hot with embarrassment. The man was watching him closely and put a hand to his cheek, forcing him to face him. He was aware of the way the table was painfully digging in his lower back, meaning he couldn’t escape. The man’s voice had turned into a whisper.

“Come on, kiss me. I won’t tell anyone.”

He closed his eyes in refusal. The man scared him. Why was he so intent on bothering him ?

“So pretty…”

Lips covered his and his cry got lost in a hot and hungry mouth. He lifted his hands to push him away, but Dean grabbed his head and pressed him against the table. He was strong and he couldn’t get a good grip on his shoulders to push. His mouth was assaulted, there was no other words. His lips were being bitten, his tongue stroked and he felt like no part of him was spared. A hand was tightly kept on the back of his head and the other wandered on his waist. He had never been kissed like that. Like he was being conquered. He only knew the soft, loving kisses of Amelia and the cheeky, passionate snogging of Meg, his first girlfriend. Dean kisses were dominating, violent and overwhelming. His world had narrowed down to his touch, the press of his body against his. He was shaking, unable to think or move. His hands were loosely placed on Dean’s shoulders, all attempt to push him away forgotten. His head was spinning, and he would certainly have fallen if his hadn’t been held so tight.

Dean withdrew, taking in the dazed expression of the priest and his red, swollen lips.

“See, I told you that you would like it.”

His mind wasn’t clear enough to protest. When he was able to think again, he was alone. The book he had been looking for was on the table behind him.

He had managed to gather some information about Dean. He was staying in a motel not far from here, he was driving a black Impala and he claimed to be a traveller. So not much, in reality. He had no idea of where he came from, of how old he was or anything else. Thinking of the other day in the library made his cheeks burn with shame. He had let him kiss him ! And worse, a tiny part in him had indeed liked it. He couldn’t help but remembering the feel of those broad shoulders, the scraping of stubble against his jaw and the heat that had seized him. He tried to push all of it down, to forget it. But it always came back to him.

He managed to avoid him two days, making sure to never be alone. It was a short victory. The man cornered him as soon as there was no one to see him. He had closed the church for public and he only had a lamp to light the way. He was about to exit the building when someone opened the small door and got in, preventing him for leaving.

“Missed me, Father ?”

He swallowed, readying himself to be firm and dismiss the man, who was closing the door behind him. But Dean looked at him straight in the eyes, with his wolfish smile and he lost all his courage.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“Why don’t you leave me alone ? You got what you wanted.”

“Oh no. ” He laughed. “I’m nowhere near done with you, angel. ”

He wanted to flee. To run from this man as far as possible. To escape the little voice in his head that whispered about how good that kiss had felt and how he wanted more. But Dean was blocking the only way out and he had clearly no intention of letting him go.

“Dean... ”

His wrist was grabbed, and he was led to the nearest pew. He tried to pull himself out but it was useless. The hand didn’t even budge. How could he be so strong ? They weren’t that dissimilar in build. Dean sat. Castiel stayed up, still prisoner from his grip.

“Take a sit. ”

He made a motion to sit next to him but Dean laughed and stopped him.

“Not here. You understand me? ”

“No ! I... Oh. ”

It dawned on him. But there was no way he would sit on the man’s lap. A hand came to caress his waist, then pulled at his hip to make him come closer.

“Please, stop. ”

“You don’t mean that angel. ”

He manhandled him until Castiel was astride his legs, fighting not to sit totally on them. He lost. A mouth latched onto his neck and sucked.

“No ! Don’t ! You’re gonna leave a mark! ”

“I won’t. ”

He kissed him and Castiel closed his eyes, trying no to react. But there were soon hands on his lower back and he couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Getting in the mood, Father ? ”

He turned his face away, ashamed. Dean groped his ass and began to grind his hips against him. He could feel his hardness through their pants.

“I knew it. ” Dean was biting his ear and he could feel his hot breath, sending shivers down in spine. “You need this, right ? Were you waiting for someone like me to take you ? Fuck you good ? Because that’s what I’m gonna do, angel. ”

He was burning hot, sweating and hands clenching in Dean’s back. If someone had asked him what he would think about having sex with a man – while being married, dry-humping in a church, with a man who was basically forcing himself on him and a stranger atop of that, oh how wrong it was – he would have laughed because the idea would have seemed totally absurd. But here he was, harder than he ever had been, panting on Dean’s lap, hips thrusting to seek the friction offered to him and body tingling with too many sensations, new and exciting.

“The things I want to do to you... ”

Hands were sliding their way under his shirt. Dean unbuttoned it, sliding the cloth along his arms, trapping them inside the shirt behind his back. He had let the clerical collar and Castiel felt like a porn actor on display (or the idea he had of them, because he had never watched porn and certainly not gay porn). Without his arms to balance himself, he had to lean slightly towards Dean not to slide. His pants suffered the same fate, and soon, a warm hand was wrapped around his dick. A moan that sounded liked a sob echoed in the silent church.

“You have a nice cock, bet you’re not using it often. Or are you ? At least once, you have a child. ”

He should have been shocked by these tactless, vulgar comments, but it was hard to breath and speaking seemed an unachievable task. Dean bended and sucked on a nipple, flicking his tongue against the hardened nub.

“You’re so pretty like that. Kiss me. No, not like that, I’m not your wife. Yeah, that’s better, give me some tongue, Father. ”

He was openly moaning now, shaking. He felt an orgasm creeping up and he knew it was gonna be huge. He rode the wave, thrusting into Dean’s fist, the slide easier with his release. He hadn’t came this hard in a long time. He let his forehead rest on Dean’s shoulder, waiting for his breath to return to normal.

“I’d like to see you on your knees now. I assume you’re familiar with the posture. ”

He let Dean guide him to the floor, slumped against him. He felt the cold and hard floor through his pants but he didn’t care, too stunned by his orgasm. A thumb entered his mouth, stroking his tongue, then withdrew. Something warm pushed his lips.

“Open.”

He obeyed. He was slowly regaining all his senses and was brutally aware of what he was doing. Shame came back with force and he whimpered, trying to get up. Dean kept him where he was.

“None of that Father. There’s still a communion you haven’t taken. ”

The blasphemy didn’t meet any reaction, as Dean had begun to thrust into his mouth. The drag of the hot flesh on his tongue was unfamiliar and he felt the member pulse, giving him the impression that it was getting larger and larger. It wasn’t unpleasant. He refused to be active, letting Dean handle it. But Dean pushed on his head, making him choke.

“Suck angel. Or I’ll take what I want and you won’t like it. ”

He sucked. It was a weird sensation and he tried not to think about how quick he was getting used to it. It didn’t take long until the hand in his hair tightened.

“Keep your mouth open. ”

He came on his face, half of it going into his mouth. The taste hit him, salty and bitter. He felt small globs of cum running down his cheeks.

“Now that’s a pretty picture. It’s late, you should get back to your little family, they’re gonna worry.”

The man left and he heard the door close. His eyes fell on a crucifix on the wall and he cried.

\-----------

I mean, look at that T_T 


	2. Chapter 2

It was hard to act like nothing had happened. Amelia had asked if something was wrong and he managed to spin a lie so she wouldn’t worry. He hated to lie. Especially to her. He hated himself for what he was thinking of when he was home. When Amelia put her hand on his shoulder, when she kissed him, when they... He felt tainted by Dean's touch. He couldn’t help thinking of him, comparing him to his wife. He was struck by the difference. He had never noticed how soft and gentle Amelia was. How she let him take the lead, pliant under his hands. He hated himself for what he thought sometimes, fleeting thoughts he tried to ignore, to stifle at all cost. How he wanted to feel Dean’s rough hands on him again, how he wanted to taste him once more... What did it meant about him ? He had never looked at a man twice, and he had never looked for meaningless sex. And yet. He was thinking of Dean when he was making love to his wife and he deserved to burn in the flames of Hell for that. What would she say if she knew ? He prayed a lot. It did nothing.

He was having an affair then. Dean had came back and he had tried to tell him off. The man had kissed him and he had melted against him. Thankfully, he had managed to convince Dean to go to his motel room rather than staying in the church. He entered the room, palms a bit sweaty. He hadn’t been threatened, he hadn’t been assaulted. He was here because he had accepted to come. And he had to be honest now, because he wanted to. He stood in the middle of the room, nervous, while Dean was circling him.

“Relax angel, I’m gonna take good care of you. ”

His tone was playful, a tad sarcastic. He unbuttoned Castiel's black shirt slowly, keeping the eye contact. He did the same with his pants and underwear. He finally got up and removed the white collar. He stepped back and sat on the bed, watching him. Castiel didn’t dare to move. Naked, in plain day, in a motel room. His father would disown him if he could see that. Dean leant on his hands, taking in the show before him. His gaze was tracing every part of his body and Castiel felt himself harden under it.

“Touch yourself. Slowly. ”

He put on hand on his cock, the pressure making him whine. Dean laughed.

“Oh no, too easy. No. You can touch everywhere but there. Begin with your nipples.”

His whole length was throbbing, protesting at the loss of touch. He put his hands on his chest, following Dean’s instructions. He caressed himself as he had never done, to the sound of the other man’s voice. He had never taken the time to explore his body like this. Had never noticed how sensitive his nipples were, how soft the skin on his belly was, had never thought much about his ass. Pre-cum dropped on the floor.

”Come here. Don’t stop. ”

He went to the bed, stopping between Dean’s legs. Two more hands were on his body and he threw his head back, biting his lower lip. The hands took a grab of his asscheeks, kneading them. His neglected member was leaking and his hips thrust into the air.

“Please... ”

“Patience. ”

Dean made him lie on his back and spread his legs. He removed his T-shirt, opening his zipper. Castiel looked at him, waiting.

“Now, we’re gonna get to the fun part, little priest.”

Dean towered over him, then made him bend his legs, exposing his ass. He felt vulnerable, if there was any safety left before. He hadn’t expected Dean to put his tongue on his opening.

“Don’t ! ”

The sensation was weird, and the man's stubble was scratching him. He squirmed, embarrassed. Dean was licking broad stripes. Then he began sucking at the rim and Castiel cried out.

“Dean...

He pushed back against the wet tongue invading his ass. It felt unexpectedly good. Dean stopped and Castiel managed not to protest. But it must have been plain on his face, because Dean had a little laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done. It’s gonna be even better.”

He retrieved a tube of lube from the nightstand and poured a large amount on his fingers. He rubbed it on Castiel’s hole, slowly slipping a finger in. Castiel winced at the intrusion, but a lubed hand wrapped around his dick and he relaxed.

“That’s it.” Dean purred. “Let go for me. Let me in. ”

He kissed him deep. Castiel lost track of the time, feeling himself opening up on blunt fingers.

“On all fours.”

It took him some time to understand what was told to him. He heard Dean move behind him and he waited nervously. Then a hand was put on his ass and he felt something pushing at his hole. He took a big breath. There was no going back.

It burned, despite the lube. But Dean was biting his shoulders and caressing his sides in a surprisingly gentle way, murmuring praises.

“Good, you’re taking me so good. Fuck, you’re really tight. Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s good.”

He finally bottomed out. It hurt. But it also felt great somehow. He couldn’t believe he had a man’s penis inside him. How had he ended up here ? Dean began moving and he stopped breathing.

“Oh angel, feel how well you’re taking me in ? I’m gonna make me you see stars, promise. ”

The slow slide was maddening. He was moaning low in his throat, trying to control the shaking of his arms. Dean was accelerating, and he wanted to say it was too soon, too much, too big, but his throat only let moans out. Soon, a sound of skin on skin filled the room.

“Is it good ? Do you like it ? Tell me. ”

“Y...yeah...”

“You’re wasted with that wife of yours, I should just keep you. ”

The mention of his wife made his belly twist with guilt but Dean hit a particular spot in him and he felt a spark of pleasure.

“Oh oh that... ”

“Found your sweet spot, angel. I knew you would like it. I can’t wait to teach you to come just from that. ”

His moans got louder as Dean was thrusting harder. His arms gave out and he pushed his face in the sheets, muffling his sounds. Dean was holding him tightly by the hips, impaling him on his cock.

“What would your parishioners think ? Seeing their pastor getting dicked like that ? Hmm? I’m glad I came to this town, you needed someone to rough you up a bit right ? ”

He squeezed his nape, pushing him further into the mattress. Castiel was floating, world narrowed down to the delicious burn of his ass. He felt Dean’s balls slapping against him, his harsh breaths above him. Pleasure was washing over his body and even thinking was hard. He sobbed in his arms at a particularly vicious thrust who nailed his prostate. Delighted, Dean did it again. And again. Castiel was totally incoherent, moaning continuously. A few strokes on his dick was all it took to make him come brutally, making his vision go white. He vaguely felt Dean come too, a bit after. His ass was tingling, he could feel sweat dripping down his back and all his limbs were as heavy as lead. A hand was stroking along his spine.

“Beautiful. Wish you could see that.” He traced his rim with a finger and Castiel winced, oversensitive. “You’re dripping.”

He took some cum leaking out of him and made Castiel suck on his fingers.

“You took it so well. You’re wasted as a priest. I should take you with me, fuck your tight ass everyday. ”

Once again, shame was coming back as he regained his reason. He turned his back to Dean, face red, cheeks still wet.

“You’re a demon. ”

“I am. You don’t know how right you are. Not yet. ”

He got up and dressed himself.

“Til next time, Father. ”

It took him about an hour to get up, take a shower and leave.

* * *

Things got worse just three days after. Dean waited for him after his weekly lesson for teens and went straight his mouth, kissing him violently. He pushed him.

“Stop it ! It’s enough ! Don’t you know when to stop ? ”

“Not anymore.”

“What is your problem ? Do you need help ? I can recommend... ”

He was interrupted by a strong hand on his wrist and an annoyed face. But there was something wrong with his eyes, because they were totally black.

“You sound like that brother of mine. You’re all so annoying, yapping about help and cures. I don’t need to be cured. I’m the best version of myself. ”

“What... What are you ? ”

“You said it yourself. I’m a demon. Never seen one, Father ? ”

Castiel tried to free himself for his grip, but to no avail.

“Let me go.”

“I’m not bored with you yet. ”

The door opened and Amelia poked her head through it.

“Darling, can you come ? You have to see this ! Are you okay ? ”

“Father Novak was feeling a bit dizzy, I was helping him. ”

“Oh thank you ! He works too much, he never knows how to stop. ”

“I’ll leave him in your care then.”

He took advantage of turning his back to Amelia to mouth a warning to Castiel.

“Don’t even think of telling anyone. ”

He then turned and said to Amelia.

“Your husband is so compassionate. He would never let anything happen to his people, right ? ”

The threat was obvious and Castiel dropped his head, closing his eyes for a second. What had he gotten himself into ? It was way worse than he thought. Dean left and Amelia put an arm around his shoulders, brushing his face with her other hand.

“Castiel, you should rest more. I don’t want you to get sick. Take care of yourself too please. ”

“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

“I know. I’m here for you, you know that ? ”

He hugged her tightly. He had to keep her safe. He had to keep his church safe. But no one had taught him how to handle a real demon. And he had to ask himself : did he really want to fight him?

He tried to resist. To tell himself that it was wrong, and dangerous even, now he knew the truth. But as soon as Dean was too close, he lost all reason. A touch of his and he was melting. A kiss and he was gone. He spent a lot of time in that motel room, naked in the sheets and even though he tried to resist, he always came back.

He was riding Dean, who was leaning against the headboard. He was naked, while Dean was entirely clothed, his hands on his hips, roughly pushing him up and down his cock.

“Dean... Please... ”

“Answer me. Do you think of me when you’re fucking your wife ? ”

He whined, shaking his head. The cockring felt heavy, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Do you think of my hands when she touches you ? ”

He was ashamed. So ashamed. It seemed it was his normal state now. Feeling constant shame dawning on him, sin sticking to his skin and pervading his mind. Everything made him think of Dean.

“Answer me ! Or I won’t let you come. I'll fill you up and send you back like that. ”

“No ! Please ! ”

He fucked into him harder, making pleasure explode in him.

“Yes ! Yes ! I think of you. All the time. Please, please... ”

“You’re so pretty when you beg me. It makes me want to ruin you. ”

Castiel thought he was already ruined. He was thinking of Dean when he was with Amelia. Wished it was his hands on him, his mouth on his. He longed for rough sex, to be manhandled and fucked without consideration. He couldn’t help but thinking of their encounters all the time, images flashing in his mind when he was in the church, giving sermons or taking confessions, when he was home, helping Claire to do her homework… He knew Dean was a demon and was still willing to offer himself, begging for more. He was ruined, and damned, and it felt wonderful.

Hands groped his ass and he cried out. The demon has spent at least half an hour caressing and spanking his ass, making it redden. It was sensitive as hell. He had protested at first. But like everything Dean made him do, he ended up liking it. He hated that. Dean always pushed his limits further, and one day he would break, letting the demon completely own him.

“See, human me would have felt bad about you cheating on your wife. Demon me ? Not so much. It makes it better.”

He reversed their position, his body heavy on him, the soft sheets sticking on his back. Dean rammed in him in short hard thrusts, plundering his mouth. He removed the cockring and Castiel came a few thrusts later, crying in pleasure. Dean didn’t stop, covering him and biting his neck. He liked fucking him when he had already came, because he knew Castiel was sensitive and that it hurt, but also that he loved it. It was like he was punishing himself by letting himself take the pain. Or just because he was a masochist and got off on pain. He didn’t know which option was worse. It was fucked up anyway.

When they were finished, Castiel was taking deep breaths, heart still pumping hard, while Dean was petting his hair.

“You said you were human once?”

“Hmm. And then the best thing ever happened to me.”

“How were you before?”

He was genuinely curious. There was something underneath the darkness that could still be seen, that intrigued him.

“Stupid. Weak. Pathetic. Worthless. I got better.”

“How did you become a demon?”

“Because I needed to fix a mess I created. I fought against it at first. Then someone did me a favour and killed me. I came back like that.” 

“You mentioned a brother. Where’s your family?”

“They’re all dead. Sam is… still trying to find me, the fool. He should stay away.” His voice had gotten softer, and his mind seemed far away. “Everyone dies when I’m around. I’d tell you to run, but I don’t care anymore.”

“Seems lonely.”

“No. I’m free now. There’s nothing left to hold me back. Family, friends…It’s just problems.”

They fell silent. Cum leaked on his thighs. He was used to it now. Sometimes it dribbled when he was giving a sermon or when he was talking to a parishioner. He had been mortified at first. Now he struggled not to get hard again.

The hand in his hair was gentle. He was almost kind sometimes, touching him softly and whispering praises into his ear. He could almost have imagined that the man cared for him. But most of the times, he was borderline cruel, harsh hands pushing and pressing, spitting slurs and taunts at him. And he loved both. He liked to remind him of his status, both his priest one and his husband one. He liked to humiliate him, telling him he was made for taking cock, that it was a wonder someone hadn’t seen it before. He said out loud dark fantasies of fucking Castiel in the confessional, or on the altar in the centre of the church, of taking him in public, describing different reactions of the audience. He would deny liking it, but would come harder picturing it.

It was his life now. Submitting to a demon, while pretending to be a good priest, a loving husband and father. He hated himself.

* * *

Amelia was suspicious. He knew it. He disappeared for hours, came back tired, was always thinking of something else and was more distant. She begged him to rest, to take some days off, maybe to go the country and see her family. He reassured her, telling her he was fine. He heard Claire complain that he didn’t play with her anymore.

Maybe Dean changed his mind. He had never left any marks on him before. He liked that his wife knew nothing, that he could imagine Castiel with her, their secret well kept. Now there were bruises on his hips, hickeys on his shoulders. He had no idea how to hide them from Amelia. He was more careful to stay clothed, to make sure they would switch the light off when making love. He touched her, brought her to climax with his hands and kissed her, trying to divert her attention from the fact he didn’t get hard with her anymore. He said he was tired. Then they just stopped making love. He didn’t have much left in him after Dean anyway. She got a sadness in her eyes that didn’t leave. He gradually stopped touching her at all, in bed or not. They barely talked. He spent more time in the motel room.

She confronted him one morning.

“Castiel, I can’t do this anymore. What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“Yes there is ! Don’t you dare pretend otherwise.”

“I’m sorry.”

He was. She deserved better.

“I just want to help you. But you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“You can’t help me.”

“I love you, I want you to know that.”

“I…”

He couldn’t say it back. In another world, he would have told her a demon had tempted him. She would have helped him, with the power of true love or something like that, and he would have sent the demon away. Maybe with an impressive exorcism, why not. But it was his reality, and he didn’t want that. He was too far gone, too addicted to Dean to want something else.

She was crying silently. 

“Is there someone else ?”

He closed his eyes.

“Is it why you won’t look at me in the eyes ?”

He stayed silent, throat tight. He was himself on the verge of tears.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, of course not…”

He couldn’t let her think something like that. It wasn’t fair to her. He wished he was stronger, better. But he was the sinner he warned his flock about, the one who takes pleasure in his sin and refuses Heaven willingly.

“But you chose the wrong man I’m afraid. I’m not good for you. I’m not good for this town.”

“Castiel…What happened to you?”

“I’m sorry.”

He repeated that, again and again, whispering and crying, while she held his hand. She shouldn’t have been the one comforting him. She should have been shouting, telling him to get out of the house, to stay away from them and go to Hell. But she was better than him, he had always known that. He just admitted to be cheating on her and she took it gracefully, keeping her pain silent and only showing empathy. He would have been glad if he had been struck by divine lightning here and now.

Instead of that, he left and drove to the motel room. There was no one. He sat on the bed, hands clenching on his thighs. He brutally removed his white collar and threw it across the room. He didn’t deserve it anymore. He got on his knees and prayed.

“You know, from what I heard, God isn’t listening. Some even say he’s dead. He won’t help you, in any case. No one cares for what happens down here.”

He lifted teary eyes on Dean.

“You’re beautiful when you cry.”

“Take me. Please take me. I’m yours.”

He had nothing left. There was only Dean now and he would be better off admitting it. The demon flashed his black eyes, smiling wildly. He petted his hair, then pressed his face into his already bulging crotch.

“I like the sound of that. What happened ? Your lovely wife threw you out?”

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“Well, it’s not like I care.”

He grabbed him to get him on his feet, then threw him on the bed. His clothes were quickly removed and he was soon choking on the demon’s dick.

“I can’t say if I like you better naked or in that uniform of yours. As long as you’re on the end of my cock, it’s good to me.”

He had left every shred of dignity behind. He begged the demon to fuck him, to make him forget everything, to make it hurt. Dean laughed at that, and took him with minimal preparation. He cried in pain, squirming on the unyielding rod impaling his guts.

“More…”

He was crying again, hot tears running down his cheeks, thighs shaking with pleasure.

“So needy, it’s never enough huh ?”

His cheek was suddenly burning and he realized Dean had slapped him hard. He whined, his hips bucking.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

He slapped him again, many times. It hurt and he loved it. Dean licked his tears, moaning as if he was tasting fine wine. He came when the demon bit his nipple. As always, Dean kept on fucking him. His hole had opened up and the slide was easier, going deep in him. He was limp under Dean, the harsh slap of his hips echoing in the room.

“My needy painslut, look so beautiful. No one else will be enough to satisfy you.”

He came deep inside him, slumping on his chest. He enjoyed the warm weight, in the usual daze he was when he was around Dean. He tied him up to the bed, teasing him until he was hard again. He blew him, slapping his cock and squeezing his balls from times to times.

“Dean…”

“Yes, you’re mine now. You don’t need to think of anything else. You’ll never forget me.”

He slid into him again, without bothering to go slow. It was too good. He felt free from everything, free to embrace his filthy desires and welcome the devil between his thighs. A hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed, making it hard to breath. He put his hand on Dean’s by reflex, panicking. Then his body relaxed and he concentrated on the feel of the strong fingers, of the sparse oxygen travelling into his lungs. He could have died like that and be happy. Maybe he wanted to. Maybe it would have been better. He came harder he had ever had and blacked out.

He woke up, body hurting everywhere, his throat burning. He could still feel pleasure up his spine and in his groin. He was surprised not to feel gross and sticky. He was barely wet. He finally noticed Dean above him, with a wet towel. Had he cleaned him up while he was unconscious ? He caressed his sides softly, nuzzling his hair and murmuring things Castiel had difficulty to hear.

“My fallen angel. You take everything I give you hmm?”

He turned and kissed Dean desperately, like he was drowning. Strong arms wrapped around him.


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff because I hate sad endings.

Amelia and Claire waved to him. His daughter cried a lot, and it broke his heart, but he wanted the best for her, and she wouldn’t find it near him. He left priesthood, renting a small apartment in a town far away. He took a job in a supermarket. Dean had left weeks ago, without warning. It had left him broken, as he knew it would happen one day. He had drifted away, until Amelia stepped up and put an end to his self-destruction. He had slowly come back to reality, but not to himself. He would never be the same again and he knew it, so he had decided to leave. He wrote to Amelia and Claire sometimes, and they would write back, telling him they missed him, that they were doing well and that they hoped he was taking care of himself.

He wondered if Amelia had told her parents the real reason why they had divorced. If they knew he was a cheater. He didn’t dare call them. He put all his energy into his job and avoiding people. It didn’t work so well, because people kept talking to him. They liked him, for a reason he didn’t understand. So he stopped avoiding them. He made friends eventually.

The letters were less frequent. He wondered if Amelia would remarry, if Claire was doing good at school. He wondered if the church was okay. He didn’t go back, even if he was tempted sometimes. He took to beekeeping here also. He began praying again.

It took him a few years to feel close to living for real. To stop chasing the shadow of Dean everywhere. He wondered where he was, if his brother had found him or if he was destroying other people’s lives.

* * *

Amelia’s mother called him one day. She was crying. She told him Amelia had died this morning. That she had been sick, but not for long, and it hadn’t seemed serious at first, that it had spiralled down so quickly that no one could have done anything. He cried too. He blamed himself, for not being there, for having screwed up in the first place. He asked how Claire was doing. She told him that they had taken her in, and that she was devastated. He gave his address, just in case. He wanted to go there but wasn’t sure she would want to see him. Amelia’s mother admitted in a small, saddened voice, that Claire had said it was his fault, and that she didn’t want to see him again. He understood.

She called again, two years later. Her voice sounded panicked and his heart nearly stopped. Claire had left, without telling where she was going. She had been with bad people, had been arrested a few times. He promised he would look for her and he did. He drove everywhere, asking police stations, hospitals and homeless people if they had seen her. He had a few leads, but he always got here too late. He was drinking a coffee in a small shop where he heard his voice behind him.

“I don’t know Sam ! It looks sketchy to me.”

“I’m not saying we should trust him, but we have no better lead.”

He turned around, shaking, ears buzzing. Dean was different. He wore a red plaid shirt, had mussed hair, but what hit Castiel was his expression. It wasn’t as cold as he had been, more expressive, smile warm and not threatening, eyes soft when he looked at his brother. Because he assumed it was his brother – Sam, he remembered the name. He was tall, long brown hair and was also wearing a plaid shirt. They were arguing over a laptop and hadn’t noticed him. Until Dean huffed, frustrated and lifted his head in his direction. They locked eyes. Neither of them moved, too stunned to realize what was happening. Sam noticed and frowned.

“Huh, you know him?”

“Kind of.”

“Oh.”

His tone was resigned, and it seemed like he knew what Dean was implying – how much did he knew? Had Dean told him everything? Or did he stay vague? He looked at Dean, who was getting up and came to him. He froze.

“Castiel.”

His voice was pained, his face down.

“I’m not a demon anymore. Sam… he found me and… there was a cure. I’m…sorry.”

His head was spinning. He hadn’t expected to see him again. The information was slowly making way to his brain.

“You’re human again.”

“Cas, I can never make it up to you for what I did. I know that. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Sam seemed to startle and pulled Dean by the arm, murmuring furiously.

“That’s Castiel ?”

“I never told you about him, how do you know?”

“You call for him in your sleep ! What happened?”

“I hurt him okay ? Badly.”

Sam whined and joined Castiel.

“I’m sorry for my brother. I don’t know what happened, but he was in a bad place for a while and…”

“Yeah, demon, I know.”

“You told him ?!”

Dean shrugged, visibly embarrassed. He was still looking at Castiel in a wounded way. He wasn’t going to cry. For the first time, he felt angry.

“You destroyed my life. My family, my job… You ruined me!”

His voice was steady, low and unforgiving. Dean took everything without a word, the pained expression never leaving his face. He would have empathized but he needed to get it off his chest.

“I wanted to die ! You… Why ? Why did you do that?”

It was a rhetorical question and Dean knew it. There was no explanation. Nothing could explain the need he felt to abuse the man until his breakpoint.

“Do you know what was the worse thing you did? You left.”

His voice broke on the last word and he stopped, because the tears were near once again. Dean put his hand on his shoulder and he wanted to remove it, but the mere touch was reminding him why it had been so hard to resist him in the first place.

He calmed down. Dean asked him what he was doing in that town and he told him. The guilt was clear on Dean’s face. He proposed to help find Claire, once they were settled in their motel room, a beer in hand. He should have said no, but there was something familiar about it.

“Let me do that for you. And you’ll never see me again.”

He was kind, more real, human. He had a strange look in his eyes that Castiel couldn’t decipher. He went with them. They found Claire, who didn’t need a father anymore – she did of course, but it was too late, and she was of age, he had nothing to say. He left her his number and she accepted it. He watched her go away, dying inside. Dean tried to stop himself because he had no right to touch him, but his arm found the way on his shoulders. He thought for one second that Castiel was going to tell him off but he turned and hugged him tight, wetting his neck.

“Don’t leave. Not again. Please.”

Maybe it was fucked up. Maybe it was a bad idea. But there was something that had attracted him to Dean the first time, something that had been buried deep, hidden under darkness and he could see it now. And he wanted it. Dean tightened his arms around his waist.

“Never, angel.”


End file.
